


Lucky

by anexorcist



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anexorcist/pseuds/anexorcist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Teddy’s hands touch his skin, Billy doubts himself and thinks, for a second, maybe he isn’t the one who was blessed with magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky

The magic blooms in him. When Teddy’s hands touch his skin, Billy doubts himself and thinks, for a second, maybe he isn’t the one who was blessed with magic. Maybe  _Teddy_  is, because there’s no other explanation for the way his veins sing and his skin tingles and the hairs rise up on his neck like he’s been shocked.

When Teddy touches him - brushes hair from his forehead, rubs his shoulders and his back, touches his knee, skates his palm across Billy’s chest - the magic rises in the pit of Billy’s stomach. The feeling almost consumes him, only rivaled by the love he has for his big, blond, sometimes green, dork of a boyfriend.

It’s winter, and as much as Billy hates the cold and the way it makes him shiver, he loves the way the sun sets too early in the afternoon. He loves pulling the thicker, warmer blankets from the hallway closet and tucking them around himself while watching old Christmas movie reruns.

He loves sharing scarves with Teddy, and he loves the way Teddy’s skin brushes his, when he tugs the woolly cap over Billy’s ears. He loves sharing hot chocolate on the couch and squeezing his cold feet under Teddy’s butt. (It’s a nice butt, not just good for its looks.)

As much as Billy hates the cold, he loves the things he gets to do  _because_  of it (especially since 99.99% of those things involves Teddy).

Tonight, Billy decides this one is his favorite.

The heater’s turned on high, but he still shivers in his Captain America t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

“I’m cold,” he complains. He curls his toes and holds onto the shield on his shirt like it’ll really help.

Teddy bumps their noses together and when he laughs – a low smooth sound that comes from his chest– his breath ghosts over Billy’s cheek, across his lips. The scent of hot chocolate fills him, and Billy can practically taste it all over again.

Teddy tugs him closer and runs his palms up and down, up and down, up and down Billy’s arms to warm him. They’re so  _warm_ , strength evident in how gentle they are, and Billy feels like he’s going to  _melt_.

“Better?”

“No.” Better doesn’t even  _begin_  to describe how he feels.

Billy tilts his head up and rests the tip of nose against Teddy’s cheek. It’s almost shy, not quite asking for permission, and his eyelids start slipping closed. A sleepy hum escapes him.

“How about now?” When Teddy speaks, every syllable travels from his lips to Billy’s, and even if he couldn’t hear, Billy thinks he could understand just from the feel of it.

“Not. Quite—“  _There_. Teddy pushes that millimeter forward, and Billy can’t tell if he’s gasping or sighing or both. He holds onto Teddy’s shoulders and feels the muscles shift there when Teddy pushes forward and pulls him in  _all at the same time._

That magic feeling surges through Billy again, unfurling like a thousand blossoming lilies, and it feels good, but he wants  _more_. He wants to tuck himself flush against Teddy’s side, pull him under the covers and never leave until spring, until summer, until winter all over again. He wants to buy an extra, extra large coat and button the both of them into it, but. But that’s sort of weird, isn’t it? Instead, he tilts his head back and lets Teddy cradle his neck.

Their breaths sound so loud, and every breath Teddy lets out, Billy breathes in. Like they’re taking turns with the oxygen, like they share one breath and this is the only way they’ll be able to survive for the rest of their lives.

Teddy’s mouth is hot, and when he deepens the kiss, Billy really can taste the chocolate from earlier. He licks into Teddy’s mouth like he wants it clean, wants every last trace of sugar gone. Teddy locks his arms around him, and when he groans, Billy wants to cry because  _he’s_  the one making Teddy feel like this,  _he’s_  the one drawing out that sound. And he isn’t even using any kind of magic.

They’re pressed as close as they can get, every inch somehow touching, but Billy’s greedy. He’s selfish when it comes to Teddy, always wanting more, more,  _more_. Even standing in front of Teddy with their faces and bodies pressed together, it’s never  _close enough_.

He wraps his arms around Teddy’s neck, and Teddy just sinks into the hold. But when Billy steps onto his feet, Teddy jerks back.

“Geez, Bee!”

Billy can hear his heart breaking as he starts to fall forward, into the space that Teddy left behind, but Teddy just pulls him toward his chest and Billy gets his wish in another, not-so-weird way.

“You’re freezing!”

Billy’s too surprised to answer because the magic flowers blooming in him go off like tiny fireworks when Teddy pulls him close again, trapping his arms between them. He holds Billy the same when they were kissing, like he can’t break, and Billy hides his face in Teddy’s neck. He wants to  _cry_ , and there are too many reasons why that he doesn’t know which one to pick.

From his ears to his neck, all the way down his back, Billy feels on fire.

“I’m  _coooooold_ ,” he lies.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Every syllable makes Teddy’s chest rumble, and Billy shakes with it, shakes with the want.

With Billy’s feet still on top of his, Teddy walks them toward the bed.

“I hate winter.”

“I know,” Teddy says, while he pulls the covers over them. He tucks Billy’s head under his chin, and every time he breathes out against Billy’s ear, it sends a different chill through his body.

Billy’s starting to really like the idea of Teddy breathing on him, and it’s just one of those things again, where he doesn’t know what to feel.

“Isn’t it great that you have such a big, warm boyfriend like me?”

“Yeah, I’m  _sooo_  lucky,” Billy infuses his voice with sarcasm, but they both know that this is how he really feels. Lucky and honored and blessed, and even though he doesn’t practice, doesn’t really  _believe_  (in anyone but Teddy Altman), he thanks God sometimes, that of all the planets in the whole wide Multiverse, Teddy got put on this one.

If Teddy is the one with magic, if Teddy is the one who gets what he wants just by saying it over and over again, Billy wonders, would Teddy wish for  _him_? For  _them_ , for  _this_?

Teddy tangles their legs. “Yeah, you are really lucky.”

It doesn’t sound like he’s talking about Billy, though.


End file.
